


Assassin

by zouee



Series: Assassin [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, M/M, Murder, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-27 14:25:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zouee/pseuds/zouee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam is a hit man who is assigned to kill, and has no problems accepting and completing a set task.</p><p>Until, that is, he finds himself up against the most sarcastic, endearing villain yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ammunition

Liam wipes off the sweat that’s built up upon his upper lip as he kneels down quietly.

_”This is it,”_ he whispers to himself, hearing the loud mob of drunken boys exiting the club.

The overpowering beats from inside enter into Liam’s ears as the doors open for a few seconds. Once they close again it’s like the sound is suppressed, and Liam’s eyes readjust - taking extra special focus of the group now leaving the over-populated scene.

He spots him amongst the crowd, Adam Baxter, the guy who stole 1.2 million dollars after he promised his dealer he’ll pay him back for the cocaine he selfishly “bought”. And Liam has no worries as he brings the sniper up, his eye looking through as he aims.

Adam takes his sweet time before departing from his friends. Obviously dosed up, he stumbles on them occasionally and his laugh is the most recognisable sound Liam’s ever heard.

He’s wearing a thick trench coat, which is a bizarre thing to wear at club, and it brings a lot of attention. He runs his hand through his greasy hair and laughs some more, his pack of skimpy girls and built men hanging off every word he says.

Liam rolls his eyes and waits. He breathes calmly and he stays hidden behind a car, waiting for the best opportunity to shoot and kill without getting caught.

And finally, Adam tells his friends good-bye, and he’s stumbling to the sidewalk, trying to hail a cab but failing.

He’s calling out but the roads are almost empty and his friends are now partially out of sight.

He collapses and sits down. That’s when Liam places a finger on the trigger, lining up the point of the gun to Adam’s temple.

"Bye bye," he mutters under his breath.

And he shoots.

-

"Left! Right! Duck!" Instructor Josh yells, his spit flying onto Liam’s face. "C’mon, Liam! I know you can punch harder than that!"

Liam strikes left, then right, and it’s almost enough to knock his instructor over but Josh is yelling at him to keep going so he does.

"Left! Right! Duck! Left! Ri—"

"Shit! Sorry coach," Liam rips off his glove as he stands over his fallen over instructor and holds out his hand to help him up.

"Woah, someone’s steamed up." He says, slapping him on the back after he stands back up. Liam doesn’t know whether he’s winded him or not but Josh doesn’t keep going.

So Liam just nods, trying to steady his breathing again.

The door of the gym swings open, and Liam’s boss arrives with the biggest grin on his face and Liam knows that smile is shown only when he’s got exciting news.

"My boy!" He exclaims, gesturing for Liam to get out from the boxing ring.

Liam squeezes through the sideline ropes and jumps down next to him, already knowing what the calling is going to be.

"Yes, Niall?"

"I’ve got terrific news for you Liam!" He beams, swinging an arm around Liam’s shoulder as he walks him out of the gym, "This case is huge, you’re gonna love it."

His cheeks are pink from excitement and he’s still grinning as he walks beside Liam.

It’s silent as they walk down the wooden-floored corridor, besides the tapping of Niall’s designer shoes every step he takes. And the worries floating around in Liam’s head are loud enough for the both of them.

Niall kicks a door and it swings open as Liam’s face fills with doubt. He’s had thoughts about quitting this career, he doesn’t want to kill people for a living anymore.

"Niall… I don’t know if—"

They enter an office and before Liam can finish, he hears Niall let out a massive sigh. He sits Liam down on the opposite side of his desk and rubs him on the shoulders before walking around to the other side. Niall stays standing, and looks him dead in the eye.

It’s always frightening when he does that. But Liam knows he doesn’t _mean_ to be scary, because he cares for Liam, he does. He’s just very passionate about his job.

"Liam,” Niall begins, his voice as stern as it always is whenever he talks about an upcoming case. “This kid is one of the highest ranking criminals on the _universal_ ‘Most Wanted’ list." He declares. "You know exactly what that means. Kill him, and your bank account will be larger than my cock, got it?"

Liam leans back into his chair and exhales slowly. He brings two fingers to his eyes and then pinches the bridge of his nose as he thinks. The last task, just this one and he’ll be set for life.

He looks at Niall and Niall’s staring at him with desire and anticipation and his vibe is just shouting ‘c’mon, boy’. And when Liam looks at his eyes all he sees is money signs.

One more task. One more murder. Just one.

He slaps his hand down on his thigh and shrugs, “Okay, yes, I’ll do it.”

"That’s my man!" Niall beams, holding out his hand. Liam takes it and they shake, which is basically a silent contract securing the deal that Liam can’t leave until this job is finished.

And that sort of freaks him out a little.

Niall unlocks a draw and brings out a thick file that’s been delivered to him. He opens it up and there are five photos of the target, with a large document of information about him.

Liam takes the photos and sifts through them. They’re all of some petite, brown-headed, blue-eyed, smiley boy that looks as though he couldn’t do a bad thing in his life.

"He doesn’t look dangerous." He says out loud, staring at one photo where the target is with another boy and he’s smiling so hard his eyes are crinkling at the sides.

"Liam, my boy, since when have you _ever_ predicted someone’s behaviour by their appearance?" Niall questions, but doesn’t let in an answer, "Look at his files."

His name is Louis Tomlinson, he’s twenty-one years old and his crime is stealing. Liam rolls his eyes at that, because surely he can’t be on ‘Most Wanted’ from robbery. But he looks onto the next page, and the items this boy has stolen are _huge_. They’re foreign objects from the private museum, only certified members know how to get to it. And as it states, Louis then sells them on the black market.

"How does he get these?" Liam asks, bewildered, "The security system is crazy there."

"It is," Niall says, "but this kid… I’m tellin’ you, he’s not easy to catch."

"So you think I can do it?"

Niall scoffs. “You just hunted down Adam Baxter, the boy who’s been on the run for years. This is a piece of cake compared to half the other tasks you’ve completed.”

Liam swallows hard. He _has_ killed a lot of people in his career. More than he can count on his fingers… which makes him feel kind of queasy.

"You start tomorrow, okay?" Niall orders as he leaves the room, and Liam gives him a curt nod before putting his head in his hands.

Just one last task.

 


	2. Gone

It’s around midnight when Liam sits in the driver’s seat of his black Ute, his bag of equipment in the seat next to him. He’s dressed in complete blackness, from his cotton mask to his leather shoes - blending in with his surroundings.

It’s just like every other assigned killing he’s done. But for some reason, this time, he feels nervous.

He turns up a hidden road, making sure he pulls up around the outskirts of the museum, just in case Louis has already entered. Then he parks, and unpacks his bag, only taking out the essentials.

A pair of binoculars, a flashlight and a shotgun should do it. So he leaves the rest of his equipment behind and closes the car door as silently as possible before tip-toeing towards the back of the museum.

He’s careful when he cracks open the door, with his gun strapped to his shoulder and his binoculars and torch hung around his neck. He contemplates turning on the light, but subsides that idea as soon as it comes

He steps in tentatively, and everything is dark, it’s completely pitch black - and Liam knows straight away that Louis must already be in - because otherwise, the electricity would still be on and the security beams would still be up.

But after a few seconds Liam’s eyes adjust, and he starts to walk and feel with his hands out in front of him carefully, again, trying not to make a sound.

Soon enough, Liam finds another door that leads into a different exhibit, and thanks to the moon that’s shining in through the left window, he can see better in this room.

He scans it once, his eyes paying attention to every inch of the crowded exhibition. And he notices, in the very back corner, a limp hand behind one of the sculptures.

Liam squeezes passed a few of the objects until he’s close to the person, hoping that the face belongs to Louis so he doesn’t have to kill tonight. But as Liam peers over, he sees it’s just a knocked out security guard, someone who’s obviously had the effects of Louis Tomlinson placed on him.

There’s no sign of violence on the heavy guard, only a small bruise on the side of his neck. Whatever ninja skills this Louis kid has, must be pretty adequate.

He looks around again, and that’s when he hears something in the next room. There’s no door sectioning it off this time, so Liam climbs up to the bridge of the roof carefully to get a better view.

It’s like a small balcony, but he has to be extra careful because one stupid slip up and Liam could fall and blow his cover completely.

He places down his gun close beside him first and looks through his binoculars, expecting to see his target through them. But the room has no sign of him still.

So Liam stays there. He can hear his own breathing louder than anything else, and feels the cotton become sweaty and hot against his nose and mouth but ignores it for the time being.

He sets his binoculars down, too, and wipes his clammy palms on the sides of his jeans.

Gasps are heard in the distance. Liam perks his head up and his binoculars are instantly on his eyes. He can’t see anything but he can hear a loud ‘snap’ and a solid ‘thud’, and it almost sounds like something breaking, and then hitting the floor.

Liam’s heart starts to race, and he scratches his eyes a few times with the back of his hands, doing all he can do to occupy himself before he comes eye to eye with his target.

_Snap_

_Bang_

Liam swallows harshly. He readjusts his position so he’s kneeling; one knee up to his chest, the other knelt on the balcony.

The sound happens a few more times, occasionally accompanied by shouts of confusion from what sound like big, strong men. Yet there is no sound of Louis Tomlinson.

And Liam waits. And he waits. And he waits…

Until he hears the doors on the other side of the room creak open.

Despite the heat from inside his uniform, he still manages to receive goose bumps from the presence of him. Liam fetches his binoculars immediately, and spots him.

"Bingo." Liam utters.

Louis is there, dressed in all black as he walks confidently in the middle of the room. Liam takes out his shotgun, trying to aim it in a way that the bullet will _only_ hit Louis, not the museum objects.

But Louis slips behind an ancient piece of art and Liam’s unable to fidget to get to the right angle. The only place on Louis’ body he can shoot right now is his foot, and that’s not going to do anything but make him scream and possibly shoot Liam, too.

So he waits. And he waits. And he waits…

Until Liam’s basically there just to watch Louis steal things carelessly off their podiums.

"Move," Liam whispers under his breath in frustration.

He’s shaking and he’s nervous and he’s anticipating the moment he pulls the trigger and it’s all over.

And as though Louis could hear him, he leaves the podium and begins walking over to one of the vases, which is a very open place.

_"Perfect,"_

Liam hitches the gun into place and peeps through to aim. He’s got it right on Louis’ temple, right where he needs it.

He cocks the gun-

Takes in a breath-

Places his finger on the trigger-

And—

And Louis looks straight up at him.

Something silver of Liam’s must have caught his eye and now he’s looking straight at him.

Liam starts to sweat even more. And Louis grins. He grins and waves until his smile drops suddenly and his finger is pointing to something right behind Liam.

And because it’s dark and because Liam’s stupid, he looks to where Louis is pointing. Although there’s nothing there. Just a window, and outside the window is a tall ledge that leads to a thirty metre drop. If Liam had’ve leant backwards he could’ve broken through and fallen to his death.

A slam of the door is heard and Liam’s head snaps back to where Louis is. Or _was._

The room is suddenly still, with only the sound of light, running footsteps fleeing in the opposite direction.

And Liam can’t help but grunt loudly in anger.

Because he’s gone — and so is the vase.

 


	3. Bullets

All Liam can think when he wakes up the next morning is Niall’s voice in his head.

_”You fucked up!”_

_”You’re an idiot!”_

_“Catch him, or you’re dead!”_

He rolls over onto his back, rubbing his eyes until they open.

He had dreamt about the way Louis looked at him, like he had absolutely no sign of fear on his face. As though, besides the fact that there was a loaded _gun_ pointed at his direction, he had no representation of worry or defeat in his eyes whatsoever.

And that’s what threw Liam off. Because in someone’s last seconds, that’s when Liam likes to pull the trigger. That’s when he knows he’s won, that’s when he knows the opposition has turned weak.

But because Louis had taken him by surprise and actually had the nerve to smile and wave, it obviously was enough to make Liam turn his goddamn head and let his target escape.

That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

He gets ready for a day of stalking. He doesn’t want to end up face-to-gun with this boy again until he knows every little trick and move he can pull.

So, he starts his car and exists onto the road entering into the main outlets of town.

If this boy is so _reckless_ and _spontaneous_ as he gives out to be, then Liam imagines him to be at a place nobody would even think of looking. Somewhere nobody could find him, he’s probably at a theme park for God’s sake, or at a mini golf course, or at—

But, there, as Liam waits in traffic, he sees him.

In a small restaurant.

Never in his five years of working as an assassin has Liam seen a wanted criminal out in public on a Sunday morning. Is he even bloody _real_?

Liam shakes his head to himself and proceeds to quickly park his car in the closest space to the restaurant he can find. And as though he’s almost way too eager, he fast paces down the footpath towards his target.

But he opens the door coolly, swiftly scoping the room once. Louis is sitting down, facing the entrance, but he doesn’t look up as Liam walks in.

He’s with a friend that Liam can only see the back off. But the wild hair looks very similar to the friend in one of the photos Liam saw in Louis’ file.

He crosses to the front counter and only orders a flat white coffee. He leans against the counter, putting on his sunglasses so he can look at Louis without turning his head and making it obvious. The waitress starts brewing the coffee and the machines are so loud in Liam’s ear it’s physically impossible to hear what Louis and his friend are saying.

But then Louis’ throwing his head back with laughter so loud it echoes through the restaurant.

Liam hears the waitress giggle. “Always smiling, that boy.”

Liam tosses a quick smile over his shoulder, but it disappears as soon as he looks back at the ‘always smiling’ boy.

How the _hell_ can a person be that ecstatic and happy and oblivious to the fact that people want him _dead_ — yet still have cunning knowledge and preparation to escape the most messiest situations?

It baffles Liam so much that, as the waitress tells him his drink is ready, he almost jumps in surprise.

"Oh," he says, slightly embarrassed, "thanks."

He takes it and sits down at a table that faces Louis perfectly. They’re still talking but Liam can hardly hear them.

He watches, but makes sure it looks like he’s reading a menu instead. Although, to be honest, Liam could probably stare at him without the menu, without the sunglasses and Louis _still_ wouldn’t notice.

Louis does, however, notice something else.

Liam looks on as Louis’ eyes catch on something that’s behind Harry’s head. They linger there only once, and only for a split second, but his eyes are filled with alert instantly.

He gestures for Harry to come closer, and then he begins counting on his fingers.

1…2…3…

They duck their heads under the table simultaneously. Something fast flies across the room. Speeding passed where Louis’ head was, until it hits the back wall and leaves a hole straight through it.

A few people scream and the waitress is squealing. And that’s when Liam realises it was a shot bullet.

He darts his eyes to the direction of where it came from, only to see someone dressed in black run as fast as he can in the other direction.

Another hit man.

Liam rolls his eyes, “Amateur.”

He watches Louis again. And he’s so un-startled it starts to make Liam so completely angered he feels like throwing his cup at Louis’ head just to see some sort of _normal_ reaction from him.

They start to walk towards the entrance, coming close enough Liam can hear their conversation.

"I think it’s the same guy who tried to kill me at the museum last night," Louis tells him, flippantly.   
  
His friend elbows Louis’ side playfully. “Ooh, you’re so bad.”

Louis laughs, “Shut up, Harry.”

Liam squeezes the coffee cup in his hand so hard it explodes.

-

"Niall, just… how many assassins are after this target?"

Niall stares at him curiously. His hands are pressed together in the shape of a triangle and his forehead is creased a little.

"Why’s that?" He asks, his head tilting to the right.

"I was watching him today. Wanted to find out more about him, you know?"

Niall nods. He’s familiar with the way Liam goes about his tasks, so he never questions it.

"And out of nowhere, a bullet slices through the room, aiming straight at Louis’ head."

Niall cocks an eyebrow. “Did he get shot?”

Liam shakes his head, “No, he… he saw it coming and moved just in time.”

"Huh." Niall says, almost impressively.

There’s a fire boiling inside Liam that hasn’t left since this morning. Just the _sight_ of the stupid, comically brave and annoying target makes Liam want to find where the boy lives and preferably stab him to death instead.

"He’s a prized case." Niall announces. "I don’t have certain numbers of the amount of assassins on this target, but I can tell you that just about every hit man in the area wants to be known for killing Louis Tomlinson."

"Yeah," Liam mumbles to himself, "doesn’t surprise me."

"He’s made very important people mad, Liam." Niall walks behind him and taps the sides of Liam’s face as encouragement. "And it’s up to you to stop him."

He leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. Liam swallows harshly at the sound, wondering if he should’ve said no to this job in the first place… 


	4. Touch

Same place, same time, same situation.

It’s astonishing how predictable Louis is when it comes to getting caught, but is so ridiculously unpredictable when it comes to escaping _out_ of getting caught.

Liam’s crouched in a dark corner, and has brought a sniper instead of his usual shotgun for a more precise aim.

He’s going to kill this boy.

If he becomes visible, that is.

Because Liam is so low, he can only see the tiniest aspects of Louis’ body as he shuffles around. And he’s stealing jewellery tonight, hiding behind the massive glass box that secures them all.

If Liam could just stand up and shoot without getting noticed…

"Trying to kill me again, are you?"

_Shit._

Liam remains still, making sure he doesn’t rise any more than he has. Does this kid have super-sonic hearing?

"Why don’t you do it, then?" Louis’ calling out, still focusing on every piece of gold he has. "You’ll get your name in the paper; have everyone know that you’re the best damned hit man anyone could ever have."

And then he’s laughing. “So fucking stupid.”

Liam raises a brow.

"Well," Liam mutters to himself under his breath.

But then he’s frowning because now Louis is aware that he’s being watched. And any move can set him off and he’ll run.

And Liam knows how fast he is at running.

He picks up his binoculars and looks through them. He can see above the glass cabinet a large part of Louis’ head. But it’s not certain that it’s just his hair, since it _has_ been gelled up a little bit.

"Or is it for the money?" He begins again, unscrewing another glass table. "Am I like, the one everyone wants? That’s so cool, you know. But money doesn’t mean anything."

His voice is dripping with sarcasm, but the last part was genuine. Which makes Liam suddenly fight the urge to ask why would he go to all this trouble selling expensive items if he wasn’t in it for the money?

Liam eyes Louis. He can see his light feet step backwards more and more. He’s hesitant with every step, and his body is facing Liam as he backtracks.

Liam wonders if Louis can actually see him in the darkness, if he can see the gun that’s just waiting to be used.

Louis swings his backpack filled with stolen goods over his shoulder with a grunt. It’s the sound of gold clashing together, and Liam can hear the sound of his career being torn apart.

"Well," Louis calls out, he’s darted his way behind sculptures and significant items so Liam can’t shoot, "it’s been a nice chat. I’m sure I’ll see you around, murderer."

And the second Louis turns his back and runs; the second Liam’s standing, pointing his gun to the back of Louis’ head.

And he shoots.

And the bullet slices passed the air, only to hit the wooden door as Louis glides passed it, _just_ hitting where his head would’ve been.

And Liam bangs his own head against the wall as he hears the mocking laughs of Louis echoing through the museum.

-

The irritation is so large it’s enough to make Liam’s skin crawl. He’s almost positive he’s going to get a rash from this getaway piece of crap.

He’s gripping onto the steering wheel _so_ tightly as he keeps his eyes on the important number plate in front of him, following every single turn it makes without hesitation, but still managing to keep a non-stalking distance.

It’s getting ridiculous. Liam’s never been to this side of town before, is this where he lives? All the way out here?

Liam contemplates on getting his gun out right now and shooting him out the window, through his car.

But then Louis pulls a sharp right turn into another shabby looking town and Liam takes a moment to look around as he follows.

There aren’t any tar-filled roads anymore, it’s all dirt and the tracks are only made from the repetition of car tires driving over it. There are a few houses, but the majority of them are only half-built, looking like something tore it down, leaving only the walls and floors.

Liam looks through the binos and sees Louis’ car pull over to a stop. Liam suddenly parks his car wherever he is, and notices a crowd of people rush up to greet Louis as he steps out of his car.

The women are all dressed the same, dirty with their hair messily tied up. The kids’ faces are smiling at the sight of Louis, even though they look like they’re starving.

They all hug him, and Louis’ grinning and saying hello, having a conversation with every single one of them for at least two minutes each.

Liam frowns; he’s frowning so hard his forehead starts to hurt. Why is he here? What good is there here? How does he know these people?

And suddenly Liam’s mouth falls open and he almost loses grip on the binoculars.

Because Louis’ pulling out a thick envelope from his jacket and opening it up.

The people rejoice, the kids jump up and down and hug his legs, the women almost cry as they kiss his cheeks continuously.

But Liam puts particular focus on the women who’s taken the envelope. She opens it and her hands are filled with a bundle of money, she doesn’t even have to count it before she cries out in joy and bursts into tears.

 


	5. Betrayal

A whirlwind of emotions start firing throughout Liam’s head and body as he storms towards Niall’s office. His fists clenched and he’s frowning so hard a vessel might burst. He doesn’t even bother knocking before his fingernails release from digging into his palm as he turns the door handle and barges in, slamming it closed behind him as soon as he steps in.

"Did you _know_ that this is what he _does_?" Liam spits, pacing back and forwards in front of Niall’s desk, his fingernails digging in again, hard enough to leave a permanent mark.

"Mm. A hello to you too, Liam." Niall comments, completely unfazed by his outburst.

He’s sitting behind his desk, sipping on a coffee from the only mug Liam’s ever seen him use, and has a pen in his hand, some papers spread out in front of him. He looks up at Liam briefly, then back down at his paperwork. As though Liam doesn’t have any importance to him right now.

The irritation of people not _caring_ anymore makes Liam’s whole body tense up. He stops pacing and stands in front of Niall’s desk. He waits for him to look up, but that never happens.

Liam continues anyway, speaking through gritted teeth. “We’re literally killing somebody that’s doing something great.”

"Sure." Niall replies shortly. He finally looks Liam in the eyes, his jaw setting. "But he’s a Robin Hood. The dirtiest kind." He takes a drink out of his mug but doesn’t set it back down afterwards. "It’s still a terrible thing he’s doin’, Liam. A kid like this can’t go by without a consequence."

He swirls the coffee around in his cup a few times before finishing it off and setting it down with a satisfied sigh.

Liam looks at him, bewildered. He doesn’t know whether Niall’s turned into a cold-hearted asshole, or if he’s just _really_ dedicated to his job and money. He starts to pace again.

"He’s selling things and giving the money to people who actually need it!" Liam claims, throwing his hands around, "How is that bad?"

"Exactly. He’s selling objects that aren’t his." Niall says, shrugging. "Our only job is to end the lives of people that our bosses have said to."

"But he doesn’t _deserve_ it." Liam whispers.

He looks down at his shoes but he can feel Niall freeze in front of him. Liam braces himself for a scolding, but Niall remains seated, his fingers intertwining.

"He’s upset many people, Liam." He states firmly, his voice pressing into Liam so hard he knows he’ll be hearing it in his sleep. "People that control more than you think. And this boy, well." He shakes his head, "He’s been goin’ on for way too long and he’s been gettin’ away with it, too."

Liam lets out a sigh. He knows he’s right, of course he is. He knows Louis’ life is in danger because that’s the price you pay when you annoy important people.

It’s just so unfair.

"So, I guess the question is," Niall says, staring hard in Liam, his eyes squinting a little, "are you in or out?"

-

Faint, vibrant humming is heard from the right room. Liam presses his back against the cold, brick wall as he slides across it, his rifle held close to his chest as he moves as silently as he can.

He watches Louis as he creeps in through the doorway. He’s picking up little objects tonight, inspecting each one with ease.

He’s humming and dancing along to a tune in his head, his head bopping up and down, his waist wiggling side to side.

Liam darts his eyes away awkwardly, becoming aware that he was way too keen on watching Louis move.

He spots a limp leg behind a cabinet, another unfortunate guard that’s been knocked unconscious from Louis’ hands.

There’s a voice inside Liam’s head, Niall’s voice. It’s beaming so loud in his ears; Liam has to shake it out for it to stop.

But at least it makes him realise that this is a _task_. One that he has to complete.

He brings the loaded weapon up to shoot. He aims it at Louis’ bopping head, and thinks about what it would look like with a bullet through it.

Liam shudders, and moves to his chest instead.

Louis’ shoving a small painting into his little black bag as Liam’s finger touches the trigger.

He breathes in deeply-

Exhales slowly-

Presses the trigger-

And-

**BANG**

A bullet shoots through the air, colliding with another object Louis had picked up, shattering it to pieces.

Liam looks around, confused. He looks down at his finger; he hadn’t even pulled the trigger yet.

He turns back to Louis, who tries to run but cries out in pain instead. He falls to the ground, holding onto his leg where he’s been shot.

A figure jumps down from a ledge out of nowhere. He’s dressed in complete black, holding a basic pistol in one hand, walking forwards as he spins it around on his finger.

He stops right in front of the crouched over Louis, who’s breathing in sharply, trying to get away but the pain’s too harsh for him to try.

And for some reason Liam looks on with sympathetic eyes. Debating with himself whether he should shoot the person who just shot Louis or not.

"I’ve _finally_ got you." The figure says, almost in disbelief.

"Congratu _fucking_ lations." Louis hisses back in reply, frowning up at him as he still clutches desperately at his hurt leg.

"You were such a piece of shit to hunt down, you know that?" The man asks him. He’s stopped spinning his pistol now, and is aiming it at Louis’ head.

"Good." Louis says, still showing no fear.

Liam watches on in the darkness, so uncertain of what his next move will be. He’s never been in this situation before.

Maybe if he lets this man kill Louis he can leave without the guilt. Or maybe he should kill Louis here and now, and win.

But then the man does something both of them weren't expecting. He rips off his mask.

He throws it on the ground and looks Louis in the eye, “I want you to see the face of your murderer.”

Liam edges his position to try and see his face, too. But he’s too behind and can only see the back of his head.

Louis looks up from him in spite. “Why? It’s not like I’m gonna remember you after you kill me, dickhead.”

Liam widens his eyes and lets out a surprised laugh.

Then he covers his mouth as fast as possible but it’s already too late.

Louis and the man turn their heads in unison. Liam feels his stomach drop but he holds his position.

A light is flashed in his eyes from a torch, and a sound of recognition comes from the male’s mouth. Liam squints his eyes, and the face that belongs to him is much too familiar to forget.

"Liam Payne." The man greets, switching the torch off and hanging it on his belt.

Liam stands up, there’s no running away now.

"Zayn Malik." He replies, stepping towards him. "It’s been a while."

 


	6. Initiation

"So it has." Zayn says, looking Liam up and down once. Liam notices how Zayn’s jaw clenches before speaking again. "Did — uh, did Niall set you this task?"

He gestures towards Louis, who lets out a gasp from being referred to as something other than a person.

"He sure did." Liam responds, eyeing off Zayn’s pistol with cautious eyes.

"Should’ve known." Zayn says.

They stare at each other for a moment, and flashbacks of last year cross through Liam’s mind.

Zayn entering the company’s doors, a curious and exciting gleam in his eye as Liam showed him around the place.

_”This is where we keep our weapons. But we’re only allowed in here when Niall—”_

_"Holy shit, look at this gun!" Zayn exclaims, grinning as he holds the rifle between two hands._

_"Whoa, whoa, whoa—" Liam crosses over to Zayn instantly, carefully taking away the weapon from his hands. Also taking away his smile. "We can’t play around with these, Zayn. Niall only gives us these for each job we’re set."_

_Zayn’s eyes fall to the floor, and then watch as Liam sets down the gun._

_But his spirits are quick to rise again. “So.” He chirps, bouncing on his feet. “What’s my first job?”_

Liam can’t help but feel sorry for him a little bit. Niall was always harsh on him - whether that was to do with the fact that Zayn was only seventeen at the time or not, making him merely a rookie - and Zayn didn’t like the idea of taking orders, so he left the company. Liam didn’t know that he was still in the business, though.

"Didn’t know you were still an assassin." He thinks out loud.

To which Zayn smirks at. “Yeah, and I can tell you now, it’s much better being on your own than working with that Irish dickhead.”

Liam opens his mouth, and goes to say something defending his boss when—

"This is really cute and all but," Louis’ voice sounds further away now, and both Liam and Zayn look to where he _was_. "I really got to go."

He’s managed to move himself across the floor without putting much pressure on his shot leg, straight to the rope that he’s set-up as a quick getaway.

Zayn realises what he’s doing after Liam does, and as Louis’ pulling on the rope and springing back up to the window so easily it’s insane - Zayn’s cocking his gun and shooting everywhere possible - aiming to hit Louis somehow.

But Louis’ already vanished through the high window, and all that’s left is the trail of spotted blood from his wound spread across the floor. And the bullets up the wall.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?"

Zayn runs towards the wall, and looks up to the open window.

He bangs his fists, “I WILL FIND YOU, LOUIS TOMLINSON YOU BASTARD!”

But Liam’s not watching or hearing Zayn’s tantrum, because as he watches the window, he sees Louis’ face appear. And in the darkness, all that’s visible is his cheeky grin, laughing at the obviously distressed Zayn.

And Liam looks up at him in amazement.

-

"It’s been a _week_." Niall states, almost slamming his fist on the desk but refraining himself. "This isn’t like you."

Liam stands with his head down, his feet pointing inwards. “I know. I’m sorry.” He says, then looks up at Niall and bites his lip. “I’m doing the best I can.”

"Well, obviously your best isn’t good enough." Niall says, sternly. And Liam can’t help but agree. "I’m tellin’ you now; you better step up your game, Payne. Or else we’re gonna lose the best damn task we’ve ever gotten."

Liam nods, than hangs his head again. “I understand.”

He hears Niall sigh. “Alright, boy. Get out there and show them what you’ve got.”

Liam looks up to see him smiling. This probably hurts the most, since it shows that he _believes_ in him. Even though Liam lied about giving it his all.

He flashes Niall a smile too, and turns to leave.

When he opens the door, Josh is there, his hand in the position to knock on the door. His face lights up when he meets Liam’s eye.

"Payno! Was just lookin’ for you!" He beams.

"Now, Josh?" Niall calls. Josh peeks his head into the room and he makes a short sound with his throat. "I want my Liam to be more focused than ever, I don’t want your bad influences suffocating him tonight, okay?"

Josh’s eyes scan the room once. “Uh… Sure! Later, boss!”

The door closes and the low mutter of Niall can be heard. Liam feels Josh’s arm swing around his shoulders before they start walking.

"Wanna go get a drink or somethin’?" Josh asks, his hopes high.

Liam frowns, “ _Josh_ , Niall _just_ said—”

"My shout," he sing-songs, flashing his wallet in front of Liam’s eyes.

And Liam breaks into a tiny smile and rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

-

Josh orders for them across the bar, bargaining with the bartender and arguing that the prices for two regular beers are too high. Liam would stop him and offer to pay instead, but frankly watching Josh get into this angry state is quite amusing to him.

"Do you want me to ask for your manager? I’ll tell him things about you that are sure to get you fired!" Josh shouts, leaning over the bar counter so much he may as well be lying on it.

"Uh, Josh—"

"Sir," The bartender replies calmly, "I _am_ the manager."

Josh looks at him for a while, until the bartender begins to look away awkwardly.

Then Josh clears his throat and starts to recede back onto his stool, “Oh… Well, then.”

"We’ll just grab those two beers, thank you." Liam says, and then turns to Josh, patting his knee. "I’ll pay."

Josh doesn’t say much for a while. That is, when he’s sober.

A few more drinks later and they’re both talking nonsense. They’ve moved onto one of the tables now, since Liam tried to move his arm but his sleeve was stuck to the bench.

Josh isn’t slurring yet, just talking _really_ loudly.

"This task has really put pressure on you, hey?" He asks, taking a massive gulp from his almost empty glass.

"Yeah," Liam agrees, nodding a bit too much. "It’s so weird; I’ve never had this sort of trouble before."

Then Josh grins, a grin so wide it covers his entire face. And he has that look in his eye, something that shines.

"I know what it is," Josh whispers, leaning over the table close to Liam’s ear. "You’re falling for the kid!"

Liam pulls a face, “Who, Louis?”

"Duh." Josh laughs, collapsing back into his chair.

And Liam doesn’t know whether it was the alcohol affecting his brain cells or not, but for a second he wonders if he’s right.

They get a taxi and Josh tells the driver to go straight home.

"Actually," Liam stops him, "Take us to Reliance Headquarters, please."

Josh stays in the taxi, sprawled out in the backseat, snoring to his heart’s content. Liam flashes the driver an apologetic look before opening the car door.

He walks straight into Niall’s office, grateful to find that he wasn’t there. He picks open a lock on one of the drawers, and brings out a recognisable file. The one titled: ‘Louis Tomlinson’.

Then, Liam rips off a piece of scrap paper, grabs a pen, and opens the file to where it states Louis’ address. He scribbles it down quickly, and then packs it all away.

He returns back to the waiting taxi, with a very important slip of paper folded in his pocket.

 


	7. Adaptation

Liam hadn’t really slept last night. He didn’t sleep at all, actually. His mind was nowhere near ready to be emptied and soothed, and constantly debating with himself whether or not to do something wasn’t much help, either.

The sun is rising before Liam can even attempt to close his eyes and relax for the night. Luckily the blinds across his window are thick enough to block out the blaring sun, or else he’d be squinting so hard he would cause himself a headache.

So he sits on his bed. And digs into his front pocket of his jeans that he hadn’t bothered to take off yet, and didn’t stop until he felt something familiar.

He pulls out the slip of paper and unfolds it, revealing Louis’ address.

He does nothing with it for a while, except look at it. And he’s looking at it for so long his eyes start to blur and he has to close them for a second to regain focus.

Liam lets out a sigh and decides to wake up before making any reckless decisions he might regret later. So he picks himself up from the bed, and almost flops into the running shower - forgetting to take his socks off, first.

When he steps back out because the water had run cold, he still doesn’t feel fully awake.

But that’s okay, because in the back of his mind he knows what he’s going to end up doing. He can deny it all he wants. He’s going to Louis’ house.

-

You would think that by _now_ , the thought of creeping up on someone so amusing would settle more easily for Liam.

Nope.

He weighs up his options for what seems like hours, sitting in his black Ute down the street from Louis’ house. He notices that Louis is home alone, which is a plus and _obviously_ a sign that the famous runaway robber’s life ends now.

But Liam’s second guessing has him sweating in the palms of his hands. The scenarios of Louis finding him there, then running away, then thinking that Liam is an absolute _creep_ because he broke into his house crosses Liam’s mind and scares the shit out of him.

But on the other hand, why the _hell_ does Liam care about what some criminal should think?

"I don’t care." Liam tells himself, clenching his hand around his gun. "I _don’t_ care."

He eyes the house one more time, and something flickers in his brain, telling him to just get over it and _go_.

So he pulls on his black, cotton mask and collects his equipment before opening his car door and stepping onto the footpath.

He spends no more extra time and makes sure he’s covered by the trees that surround the house. Pushing passed the branches; he heavily walks through the overgrown foliage before he finally reaches the house he needs.

Liam looks up, and notices a light on in one of the rooms closest to him. He can’t see anything through the window, only a turned on television and a bench. He turns on his flashlight and peers into the room next to it, which has to be Louis’ bedroom.

He swallows hard, and wipes the nervous sweat off his palms onto the front of his jeans, and breaks open the window.

He’s done this plenty of times before, so of course it’s swift and inaudible when the window opens, and it’s big enough for Liam’s equipment and body to fit through _thank god_.

He thinks to himself that the best option would be to sit and wait. He shuffles over the right side of the room, where the bed sits, and crawls in on the other side. He’s so low it’s impossible to see him from the other side, but Liam makes sure he can see over the bed, only so he can aim properly.

And he waits.

There’s a noise from a few rooms down, and a sound of footsteps and lights being switched off. The nagging sensation in the pit of his stomach - the only thing that seems to be telling him to stop and go home - becomes stronger with every footstep that comes closer.

And now Louis’ right outside the door. Liam braces himself as soon as he sees the doorknob twist, and then it begins to open.

He sees his leg first; he’s in trousers that look way too loose for him. And a baggy t-shirt that must be his oldest piece of clothing.

Louis walks into the middle of the room as Liam watches from behind the bed. He tries his absolute hardest not to move.

The mirror is filled with Louis as he stands there and pulls off his shirt.

He throws it across the room and Liam tries not to blush, but it’s incredibly hard the longer he looks. He didn’t notice the curve in Louis’ back before, or the way his arms are slightly toned, or his body at all really.

And Liam finds his head having three different points of views on this situation.

The first is his human instincts, telling him it’s completely _absurd_ to be in somebody’s room, watching them get undressed. Let alone have a loaded _gun_ aimed at them.

The second, is the part that’s making him stay, (besides the fact that maybe, Liam likes to scan Louis’ body a few more times than intended) and is telling him that he’s allowed to be in his room. And he’s allowed to kill him wherever he wants.

But the third part, the part that’s always there – _nagging_ and chewing away in the back of his mind - is the biggest. It’s Josh’s voice, echoing through his ears.   
  
 _You’re falling for the kid_  
 _You’re falling for the kid_  
 _You’re falling for the kid_

And Louis begins to run his thumbs on the inside of his loose waistband, about to pull them down.

Liam swallows hard.

_You’re falling for the kid_   
_You’re falling for the kid_   
_You’re falling-_

The kid has now stopped dead in his tracks. His whole body frozen, eyes wide with horror as he faces the mirror. Showing the reflection of Liam behind the bed.

There’s shock, fear and horror running across his face first. _Normal_ expressions that Liam has finally seen on him.

But then there’s something else in his eyes that Liam can’t comprehend.

Yet they both remain still.

He doesn’t know how long they stayed there - his eyes on Louis, Louis’ eyes on him - but neither of them move, Louis’ still looking at the mirror, refusing to stare at him directly.

But he eventually regains himself. He swallows hard, then rolls his shoulders back and plucks up enough courage to turn and face him.

Then they stay like _that_ for a while, too.

And there’s a flash of recognition that shows in Louis’ eyes as he meets Liam’s. But it disappears as soon as he catches sight down the barrel of the threatening gun.

If Liam was able to, he’d have pulled the trigger by now, and Louis would be dead. Done and dusted. But Liam can’t, and the reason why is still there, echoing through his head.

There’s a change in Louis’ expression, and he clears his throat as a statement.

Then he cocks an eyebrow and folds his arms over his chest, shifting his body onto one leg.

"This can be classified as porn, you know. Which means I’m gonna have to charge you." He says, the right side of his mouth curving upwards in the slightest.

It’s enough to knock Liam out of his frozen state and back into reality where he’s _supposed_ to be at all times. He adjusts the weapon on his shoulder that’s just become knowingly uncomfortable to him.

Louis jumps, his face drops as his eyes are filled with horror again. He eyes the gun with caution, and his feet falter as he tries to step away. He presses his back up against his wall, his hands up near his head, facing towards Liam.

And Liam frowns, and opens his mouth to reassure him that it wasn’t meant to be threatening, but Louis interrupts quickly.

"L-listen," he stutters, his eyes not moving from the weapon. "Maybe we could talk? I remember you, Liam. I’m so glad it’s you and not Zayn. I mean you’re still hella scary, and I’m fucking shitting myself if I’m honest but-"

Liam hears the words rushing out, and cocks his gun upon his shoulder deceitfully. Admittedly enjoying this side of the ‘always-cunning-and-quick’ boy.

"I really don’t know why everyone wants to kill me," He blurts out, words coming out faster than water from a running tap. "Like yeah I steal things but that’s only because I care about different people and give to those who need it and I don’t know why that’s such a big deal," He pauses, and swallows deeply. It’s then that Liam notices Louis’ eyes welling up. "You’re different, Liam." His voice cracks at the name, and Liam’s spine runs with a shiver. "Everyone else would’ve shot and killed me by now if they had the chance, and I don’t know, I guess I _really_ appreciate you not killing me yet."

He’s shaking, and his back is pressed up against the wall with his hands above his head, and he’s shirtless and the waistband of his trousers are edged down that little bit further than normal and there’s something _so_ submissive about the way he looks at that moment, that Liam can’t press his finger on the trigger anymore.

He lowers the gun and Louis lets out a huge but soft sigh of relief.

"Louis-"

Liam begins to say, but his voice is interrupted but something deadly.

There’s a distinctive rustle in the bushes outside Louis’ window, the one that Liam left open. Which can only mean one thing.

"Turn the light off and come here." He tells Louis urgently.

"What?"

Another rustle, it won’t be long now.

"I said turn the light of and come here!" He says again, his voice raised.

Louis lets out a whine, but as Liam lowers the gun he can see Louis’ frantic eyes start to rely on him.

And the lights turn off.

"Hurry!" Liam calls, only loud enough for Louis to hear.

As soon as he feels the weight of the bed press down, Liam grabs Louis immediately and pulls him down to the same side he’s on. Louis lets out a terrified shriek and Liam presses his hand across Louis’ mouth.

Another rustle.

The window creaks open and Louis lets out a gasp. Liam presses his hand further onto Louis’ mouth and the arm that’s wrapped around his bare chest pulls him closer to the furthest edge of the room as they lay down.

Louis continues to make muffled sounds of disapproval and tries to squirm, but his body gives up as soon as he starts, knowing that Liam’s way too strong to compete against.

A torch light appears from outside, and it scans the room once. Louis stiffens, and Liam holds onto him tighter. They both hear someone curse under their breath, then the torch switches off, and the rustling stops.

They wait until they can’t hear anything. And when it’s clear, Liam removes his hand slowly, only to find Louis breathing heavily against him.

"You saved me from getting shot." Louis says. He’s so quiet it doesn’t even sound like his voice.

But Liam remains silent.

Because now all he can hear is Niall’s scolding shouts in his head. All he can hear is his career being ripped up and thrown out the window.

All he can hear is a bullet being shot straight through his own chest.

He feels Louis sit up abruptly; he can see his outline but fails to know what his expression is.

"You saved me! Why?" His tone is different. Sharp and ridiculing, like he’s confused yet _insulted_ that Liam saved his life.

And although Louis seems like a misunderstood and actual _caring_ person, (with an incredibly attractive face and body) Liam can’t stand to think for another second about his consequence for helping his target.

"I have to go." He mumbles.

He pushes Louis off as gently as he can and he collects his equipment. And when he stands, Louis stands with him.

"Oh, I know why." Louis snarks, hands on his hips. "Because that way _you_ can shoot me, right?" Liam can’t stand to hear this so he walks passed, accidentally nudging Louis’ shoulder as he does so. Which seems to set him off. "Why don’t you do it then, huh? Why don’t you kill me right now?"

He’s shouting as Liam shuts the door. And behind him, he hears the word, “Pussy!”

 


	8. Naive

The thick, red punching bag jolts uneasily from its hold in the roof. Liam slams in the punches, bouncing a few times on his toes then hitting it two or three times before repeating.

"He has some _fucking_ nerve." Liam utters, a trickle of sweat running down his forehead. He wipes it away with his glove, and then hits the bag with a solid punch enough for it to swing. "Why can’t I kill him?!"

He lets out a groan of frustration, and grabs the bag when it swings towards him. He holds onto it, his head resting against it as though if he were to stand up by himself, he wouldn’t last. He lets out a sigh.

"Boxing so early, Liam?"

He doesn’t move. He hears the gym doors shut and Niall’s shoes tapping against the floor as he walks closer.

"Thought this was therapy for you?" He edges closer, Liam grips onto the bag tighter. "You know, after you actually _kill_ the target?"

Liam tenses. “It’s harder than it looks.”

"I don’t want fuckin’ excuses!"

Liam’s bag is punched out of his reach and is forced to stand up by himself. He watches as Niall’s face starts to get red, like Liam’s boxing gloves.

"You kill this fuckin’ boy or else it’s all over, you hear me?!" Niall shouts, stepping close enough Liam can feel his breath against his hot skin.

"Don’t you think I would’ve by now?!" Liam shouts back.

It takes them both by surprise but Liam doesn’t feel guilty.

"I’d like to see _you_ out there killing people for a living! Especially someone that you’ve gotten—" Liam stops himself quickly. He looks away and bows his shaking head. "Doesn’t matter." He mutters.

"Liam," Niall says, his voice now unexpectedly soft. "I know you were thinkin’ ‘bout leavin’ this job before I gave you this task, but all I’m askin’ is don’t let that effect you."

He puts a hand on Liam’s shoulder, squeezing it once for reassurance. “You’re stronger than this. I know it.”

And for some reason, Liam feels the need to cry. But he doesn’t, of course. He just looks Niall in the eye and forces a smile.

"That’s my boy," Niall says, ruffling Liam’s hair, "Do me proud."

And with that, Niall walks out, his shoes tapping with every step. Liam waits until he exits the room to fall into the bag again, his arms wrapped around it, holding on for dear life.

-

Liam walks into the washroom after packing away his gloves. He goes to take his runners off and sits down; on top of something that makes a crinkly sound.

He stands up and turns, only to groan at the newspaper, the headline something to do with Louis. He picks it up and shakes it angrily.

 _Our Objects. Gone. Now In The Hands Of Australia’s No. 1 Criminal._ It reads.

There’s a paparazzi photo of Louis walking down the street on the front. Underneath, the caption: _Louis Tomlinson. If we can capture a photo, why can’t_ they _capture him?_

Liam groans and sits back down, the newspaper scrunched in his hands. He tilts his head back onto the cold tiles and closes his eyes.

"He would _not_ be in this much publicity if he had _just_ put a mask on from the start." He says to himself.

All the objects that Louis has taken are pictured and laid down on a double-paged section. There are about 40 different treasures. From little gold earrings to massive sculptures, all taken by this boy.

Liam shakes his head and rolls up the paper, throwing it as hard as he can against one of the walls when he reads the sentence below: _How can somebody be this selfish to steal the nation’s treasures and keep the money for his own good? This maniac needs to be stopped before his reckless actions cease further._

"HE IS _NOT_ SELFISH!" Liam shouts, his face turning red. He kicks the bench he was sitting on, furious at how the media can make such sharp judgements about a boy who is helping others.

Liam brings back his arm to punch the tiled wall through anger, when a delicate hand is rested on his arm to stop him.

"Only you would know that."

Josh’s voice is calm behind him. Liam sighs and drops his arm to his side, his eyes falling to his shoes.

"Why didn’t I just quit?" Liam says, his voice so quiet now.

"Because you want to make everyone happy." Josh tells him, his hands now on Liam’s shoulders to turn him around. "We all know how difficult this is for you. But, Liam, at the end of the day it’s only between you and Louis." Josh gives him a hug, his head resting against Liam’s shoulder. "And you can’t leave me just yet."

_Between you and Louis_

That’s right. It is a battle between Liam and Louis. If Louis dies, Liam survives. If Liam dies, Louis survives.

A punch of something dreadful seeps into Liam. The concept of kill or be killed is stronger than it’s ever been.

But that’s his job. And the only question is, _is he strong enough?_

Liam hugs him back, squeezing a little. Hoping that this terrible realisation will vanish with some affection.

"I know." He says, quivering. His voice drops to a whisper, "I won’t."

-

To have something pulling on your chest so much it makes you feel like throwing up should be illegal. It’s the only thing Liam feels when he parks down the road from Louis’ house, the familiar surroundings causing Liam to break out in a sweat. He doesn’t _want_ to be here. He doesn’t _want_ to kill.

But he doesn’t want to be dead, either.

He steps out onto the wet grass, the chilly air surprising Liam more than it should’ve. The ground is still wet from the afternoon rain, and his shoes are beginning to fill with water the more he shuffles through the grass, a gun on his back, binoculars around his neck.

Louis’ already in his room by the time Liam can see him. He’s sitting by the edge of his bed, cuddling something Liam can’t see yet. His chin is resting on it, and he’s as still as Liam’s ever seen him.

As he gets closer, he makes out a soft pillow, pressing hard against Louis’ chest as he clutches it tight, his fingers digging into the sides as a sign that he never wants to let go.

Hesitant to step closer, Liam brings his binoculars to his eyes. He looks through the window, zoomed in enough to see Louis’ face.

Liam’s heart drops.

Louis’ face looks tired. He’s shaking a little and the white in his eyes have turned red, the ghost of tears trailing down his cheeks. He looks exhausted, and pained. He dips his chin and bites his pillow anxiously, squeezing his eyes and his hands shut.

Liam doesn’t know what to do. He drops the binoculars around his neck and peers over his shoulder, the fear of someone watching him becoming dominant. Then he looks back at Louis, so distraught and sad, something Liam had never wished to see on this usually energetic and bright boy. He looks to his car, wondering if he should just go home, do this reluctant killing some other day. A day where Louis isn’t on the verge of crying in front of him.

But then Liam looks back at him, and his eyes linger longer than they should have. His chest doing that awful pulling thing.

And he walks forward.

He makes sure Louis doesn’t catch sight of him before he reaches the window - he doesn’t want to completely make him die of a heart attack instead - and cracks it open as silently as possible.

And Liam starts to think it’s all okay. Until it starts to rain.

The sudden clear sound of outside makes Louis’ head pick up. He looks at the open window and his eyebrows knit together, then realisation kicks in and suddenly he’s frantic.

He stammers back to the head of his bed, pressing his back as far as he can against the wooden panels, his pillow still clutched to his chest tightly.

" _Please_ ," He whispers weakly, his voice shaking uncontrollably. "Just do it now. Let him go, just- just kill me."

He chokes out a sob, burying his face into the pillow.

Liam can only look at him, confused as hell. He’s covered in rain but all he can think about is how _scared_ Louis is.

He opens the window and sticks his body in further, making Louis whine and fold into himself, looking as small as possible.

Ignoring the gun on his back, Liam says gently, “I’m not going to kill anyone.”

He sees Louis pause. Then two fear-filled eyes hover above the pillow hesitantly. His forehead creases, then eventually his whole face is out of hiding.

"Li- _Liam_?" He asks, eyes squinting to see him better.

He’d come into the room, but Liam’s practically soaking now. And he doesn’t want to ruin Louis’ carpet.

"Yeah," Liam says. And he doesn’t know why, but he smiles.

And when he doesn’t receive one back, or any expression change whatsoever, Liam wipes it off.

Clearing his throat and changing to a more serious tone, Liam asks, “whose _him_?”

Louis’ eyebrows rise. He tilts his head, “What?”

"What you said before." Liam says. “‘Let him go’"

Those words make Louis shrink even deeper, making himself smaller than humanly possible. His toes curl around his bed sheets and the fabric from the pillow is almost snapping from how hard his fingernails are digging.

"It’s Harry." He says, his voice full of strain and pain. "He got taken away."

"By who?"

Louis’ eyebrows pinch together, “Zayn.”

There’s venom in his voice now, his actions not shown through fear anymore, but anger.

"Zayn took Harry?" Liam asks. Louis nods. "And now I’m guessing he won’t set him free unless he kills you first, right?"

Louis nods again and Liam looks down at his own knuckles, grabbing onto the window sill, turning white. He lets out a frustrated grunt. This was the one thing Niall always told them _never_ to do.

"Alright then," Liam says, pushing the window open to its full extent, "let’s go."

But Louis stays put. “ _What?_ ”

"Let’s go save your friend. C’mon." Liam waves him over, eyes bright and hair damp from all the rain.

Louis looks at him sceptically, as though Liam had just grown about three heads.

Liam sighs, “You’re being very lazy for someone whose friend is in danger right now.”

"This is a set-up." Louis states firmly, not moving an inch.

Liam feels like toppling over the window sill in annoyance. The rain has gotten heavier, and there’s only so much moisture his shoes can handle.

"The day Zayn and I start working together is the day that me and you start getting along." Liam tells him, impatience building. "Now come _on_."

Louis looks at him with judging eyes. They scan over Liam’s face about a hundred times before they drop and he sighs.

" _Fine_." He says angrily, tossing his pillow aside as he stands up beside his bed. "Go wait for me in the car."

 


	9. Fire

"So, did he give you an address or something?"

Louis digs into the pocket of his jacket, and throws a slip of paper onto Liam’s lap. Liam looks at it once and starts the engine.

They’re in his car, and Louis _was_ comfortable - until he spots all of Liam’s weapons in the back seat.

"D-do you use _all_ … of those?" He stammers, eyes unable to tear away from the endless collection of guns and knives.

Liam hides a smile, “Sometimes.”

Louis yelps.

"When it’s a big guy I prefer to use the big guns." He continues, loving the way Louis shrinks into his seat, swallowing nervously. "You know, machine, rifle… I’m pretty sure there’s a grenade in there somewhere, too."

" _Grenade_?" Louis spits, eyes wide, "You have a fucking _grenade_ in your back seat?"

One look and Liam can’t hold it anymore. He’s laughing so hard he has to take one hand off the steering wheel to clutch his stomach as he leans over in hysterics.

Louis stays there silent, arms folded and lips all pouty, eyebrows all crossed.

"Oh," Liam breathes, wiping a single tear out of his eye, "Oh, that was good."

"Hilarious." Louis replies bitterly. "Maybe if you keep it up I’ll fire one of those into your skull."

Liam’s eyes widen and his laughing stops. “Well,” he says, taken aback, “and I thought you were more of a hands-on, karate-type kind of fighter.”

Louis scoffs, “And what makes you think that?”

With a shrug, Liam waits until they turn a corner before he responds.

"I’ve seen it." He says, voice level. "On the security guards, I mean. The bruises on their necks, the zero amount of blood… You must have some real ninja moves."

Louis smiles, smug. He moves into the middle of the seat, so he’s not so much pressed up against the door, being as far away from Liam as possible. And he relaxes his shoulders, as though he’s not so scared anymore.

"I guess you could say I’m a silent killer." He tells Liam, side-eyeing him. "Unlike _someone_."

"Hey!" Liam looks at him defensively, "I’m silent!"

"Let’s face it; Zayn would’ve shot me dead in the museum by now if you didn’t distract him. Loud mouth."

"What, you _wanted_ him to kill you?"

"No," Louis replies calmly, bringing one of his knees to his chest, "I just would’ve loved to see him try."

They drive a few more miles, nowhere near the said address yet. How could Zayn even be bothered to go all the way out here? As far as Liam remembers, there’s nothing out here except for bush and more bush. He’s never seen a house in this area before.

"It’s stopped raining, at least." Louis says after a while, his forehead pressed against the window, eyes looking up at the sky.

"Yeah," Liam says. And that’s all he does say because he doesn’t know what else needs to be said.

He’s also so baffled at how Louis’ so calm now, even though he’s riding to the middle of nowhere with someone who’s had the record of wanting to kill him. Kudos to him, really. If it were Liam in his shoes, he’d open up the car door and roll out without a second thought.

"Check out where we are," Louis laughs, something edgy in it, like a taste for thrill. "This is like those scary movies, you know." He says, bringing his other knee to his chest, wrapping his arms around them tightly. It amazes Liam how small he can make himself. "Where like, the villain takes the innocent guy to like a dark, isolated alleyway - except, in this case it’s the creepy woods - and then like, the villain fucks and kills him."

Liam’s eyes fly open. Then he blinks and looks at Louis wildly.

"What kinds of horror movies do you _watch_?"

"Is that what you’re planning to do right now?" Louis grins, ignoring Liam’s question.

Clearing his throat, Liam gives him a stern tone. “One, you’re not innocent.” Louis opens his mouth to say something but then shuts it and shrugs as though he agrees, “Two, no, I’m not taking you to a different location. And three, I’m keeping you alive.” Then Liam smiles, “For now.”

But instead of being scared, Louis laughs into his hand like a little schoolgirl.

"What?"

"You left out one part." He says, now biting his bottom lip. "Are you going to fuck me, Liam?"

The tight pulling in Liam’s chest appears again, and he finds himself swallowing hard, his hands gripping onto the steering wheel for dear life. He fidgets in his seat and Louis laughs again.

"I’m looking forward to it."

-

It looks like an old, abandoned church. With grey coloured bricks laid on the outside, a pointy roof on top. The only windows are small, placed all around the outside near the top of the high building.

They’ve parked around the side, so the front entrance can’t be seen from the car, but Louis tells Liam that he’s been here before.

"There was a fire a few months ago, down near where I…" Louis stops, hiding something. "You wouldn’t know where it is, but we had to retreat into this place to survive."

Liam looks towards the building and swallows hard. He knows what Louis was talking about. He saved the villagers from a fire, that’s why their houses are destroyed.

That’s why they need money.

"Hey, Liam?"

Liam looks at him. And not just briefly, like _really_ looks at him. Louis’ someone who’s so damn modest without knowing it, the Robin Hood guy that he is. And Liam smiles at him, grudgingly gaining some respect for this boy.

"What if our plan fails?" He asks, voice quivering the slightest bit. "I don’t mean I doubt it or anything, but… What happens if—?”

"You’ll be fine." Liam reassures him. And suddenly he feels the need to reach out and grab Louis’ hand, or arm, or to touch his face, or to make him smile, or to do _something_.

But he doesn’t. Because he’s stronger than that.

And when Liam looks back at Louis, he’s already smiling. The chest pulls are back again, which force him to flash one back.

Liam turns away, because this is all too constricting for his liking, and opens the car door. He’s halfway in, halfway out, when he feels Louis’ hand rest on his arm.

"Wait," He says, and his hand drops when Liam stops. "I… I’ve forgotten the signal."

Liam smiles big to himself, but makes sure it’s gone when he turns around. He leans into the car, feet on the ground.

"The signal can be anything, yeah? Just make sure it’s noticeable enough for me to see."

"So… Like a word, or—"

"I may not be able to hear you, remember that." Liam tells him, arm resting lazily on the steering wheel. "Maybe give me a look, a hand gesture… Anything other than sound."

"But how will you know what it is?"

Louis’ stressed now. His little eyebrows are forced together, his lips parted slightly into a confused pout.

And Liam just laughs. “I’ll know.”

He gets his gear together from the boot of the car. He slips on a pair of sticky gloves and knee pads, and something else on the toe of his shoes to help him climb. He swings his trusty gun and binoculars around him, and slams back down the boot when he’s ready.

"Alright," He says, nodding over to Louis, "It’s time."

"I go in? Now?" Louis asks beside him. He hasn’t moved once while Liam’s been getting ready.

"Yes," He replies, "You’re ready, aren’t you?"

"Uh... Of course." He says nervously.

"Good." Liam pats him on the shoulder and begins to walk towards the window.

He can feel Louis’ eyes on his back. And it’s a while before he hears him again.

"Hey!" He calls, and Liam turns around, watching as Louis starts to run up to him. He stops in front, a smile playing on his lips. "I just, uh, wanted to say _thank you_. You know, for taking me here. You… You didn’t have to do that."

Liam nods. “I know.” Smiles, “Your welcome.”

Louis beams, and he may have done the most surprising thing Liam’s seen in his career. He _hugs_ him.

It was only small, and it didn’t last long at all - Liam didn’t even get the chance to hug him back - but it was a _hug_. And now Louis’ running back to the car, towards the entrance, putting himself in complete danger.

Liam acts fast.

He runs the other way, judging which window to enter through. After picking, he attaches to the wall straight away, his sticky gloves and kneepads becoming extremely handy.

And as he makes his way up the wall, his breathing and heart beat way too fast to be normal, he hears voices from the other side.

Louis must have already entered, because the first thing Liam hears is Louis’ name being called in relief.

Harry.

Another voice, “Oh, look. You finally came.”

That’s Zayn. Because a shiver runs down Liam’s spine as soon as he hears him.

"Fuck off, twat." Louis spits back.

Liam chokes out a laugh. For someone who was so terrified to go in there, he sure has some great acting skills and fiery remarks to say.

"You’re not making a very good entry, could’ve at least _tried_ to make me like you." Zayn snarks back.

Liam’s halfway up the wall now, his elbows and shins starting to create scratches from scraping across the brick.

He hears Louis scoff. “Why would I want you to like me?”

"Because I have your _friend_ -" Zayn spits out the last word, followed by a whine of pain from Harry. "-who could be killed at any moment, got it?"

"I’m here, aren’t I? You have to let him go. That was the deal."

"Deals don’t mean anything in this business."

There’s the sound of footsteps. Liam quickens his pace.

"You know my pal Liam?" Zayn continues, the sound of footsteps slowing. "We used to work together for an Irish cock head who didn’t believe in deals like this. But guess what? I left. I’m my own boss, I follow my own rules - and look who’s winning now?"

A ridiculing laugh echoes the hall as Liam reaches the window. It’s dusty, and Liam has to balance on one hand to wipe the dust off quickly.

He can see vaguely, who’s who. Louis’ still near the doorway from where he came in. His arms are folded across his chest, one leg out as he puts all his weight onto it. Zayn’s a few paces in front of him, he’s on the right of Harry, who’s in a headlock between Zayn’s arm, limbs bounded and mouth sealed.

"So," Louis says, taking a step towards Zayn, his head cocked a little to the side. "When are you going to kill me, Zayn? How long will you be talking shit, before I go ahead and kill myself?"

Liam’s eyes widen, and he begins on the window instantly.

Zayn throws Harry onto the ground in anger, his finger snapping underneath Louis’ chin as his foot slams down in front of him.

"You wanna be killed? I’ll fucking kill you slowly if that’s what you want."

And Liam hopes that Louis will move out of Zayn’s touch, but he doesn’t. He stays there, locked eyes with Zayn as he spits in his face.

And Liam’s frantic.

He cracks open the window as silently as possible, creaking it open as far as it can go.

"You know," Zayn continues, backing Louis into the wall behind him. "You’re pretty fucking stupid, coming here by yourself."

That’s when Louis moves out of Zayn’s reach, tossing his head back.

He looks up as Liam’s already halfway through the window when he says, “Am I?”

A knife is pulled out of Zayn’s belt, and a droplet of sweat falls from Liam’s face. He makes his way down the wall, as fast as possible. Harry catches his eye, but even if he wanted to say something, he couldn’t.

"Never in my 5 years of being a hit man have I ever met anyone as irritating as you." Zayn snarks, his knife just inches away from Louis’ neck.

"Well, I mean, with that attitude you’d never meet anyone that’s-"

"Shut up! I hate your voice just _shut_. _Up_."

Zayn pushes Louis further into the wall and Liam drops to the floorboards, unable to handle hearing this any longer.

He knows they’re all looking at him, even before he turns around and meets Zayn’s eyes.

"Nice to see that you could make it." He says, "But as you can see, I’ve kind of already beat you to it."

He turns back to Louis, who’s got his brave face on but his uneven panting has given away his fear.

Zayn tilts his head to one side as he brings the sharpness of the knife against Louis’ throat.

"Oh, I’m gonna enjoy this." He smirks.

Then Liam’s on him like a lion, tackling Zayn in from the side, making them both fall to the ground, the knife flying through the room and skidding across to the furthest wall.

Louis’ on it in a second, grabbing the knife and heading over to Harry to set him free.

Liam wrestles Zayn as best he can, pushing him off whenever Zayn gets on top, and pinning him down when he can. It’s not as hard as he thought, since Zayn’s as skinny as anything and well, Liam’s had some training in the upper body section.

"What the fuck made you stay, huh?" Zayn spits, underneath Liam’s hold. "What made you pick Niall over me after all these years?"

He grunts and squirms but Liam forces him down once more and that makes him give up.

Liam looks at him and sighs, “It wasn’t right to leave. And I don’t know why _you_ did it.”

"I did it because _we_ shouldn’t take orders!" He protests, eyes wide as his head lifts off the ground as emphasis. "We’re stronger than that! Don’t you know?" He softens, and lies back down. "We could be a team, man. We could’ve been a team."

Liam looks at him. He’s got those big, dark coloured eyes perfected with long eyelashes that Liam had always been fond of. Somewhere in there, there’s a nice guy with a great laugh and a good attitude. _Somewhere_ , deep inside, isn’t this guy, pinned below him.

"Breaking away doesn’t make you more superior, Zayn." Liam tells him, his voice small. "Take a look at yourself, you’re a mess."

And then Zayn does something Liam will never forget.

He looks up at Liam with the most hurt filled eyes he’s ever seen. They look up at him with pain and apologies and his forehead creases together, as though he’s worried for something.

And as he’s frozen there like that, as though he’s _broken_ , Liam turns around to Harry and Louis, who are still fucking standing there.

Liam waves a hand to them, gesturing to make them leave the place. And they do. In a scramble of limbs and feared expressions they take a hold of each other’s hands loosely and run out of there.

When Liam turns back, Zayn’s still looking at him.

"You never wanted to turn out this way. Did you?" Liam asks, lifting one leg off of him, now kneeling by his side.

Zayn shakes his head immediately. He sits up before he starts to talk, “How do you do it? H-how can you kill people, one after the other, and not turn insane? One man down and… And I’m a _murderer_.”

And Liam curses at himself in his head. Because one second he’s on a mission to _kill_ the target, the next his _helping_ the target, and now? He’s sitting down in an abandoned hall with an ex-co-worker whose gone crazy.

And when he looks at Zayn again, he sees the innocent, bright eyed boy who first stepped into their workforce on the first day. The boy who stuck by Liam like superglue, and followed him around wherever he went.

But now he’s here, in a bundle of mess. On the verge of tears.

"Hey, listen." Liam says, and there’s an inch of regret pinching in the sides of his stomach but if Liam was in Zayn’s position, he’d want a little comfort and advice, too. "You want to know a secret? You have to find some kind of release. I do boxing, and it helps. A lot."

"Well… I - I remember Niall saying that and…" He stops and swallows hard, his eyes starting to gain moisture. "And I used to draw, but…"

"Then _draw._ If you still want to be in this business, then you can’t let it get to you."

And Zayn nods silently, his head bowed towards the floor. Liam rubs his knee, and the sound of a tear drop hitting the floorboards is enough for Liam to give up and punch himself mentally, saying to himself “fuck it” as he brings Zayn in for a much needed hug.

"You were my role model, you know." Zayn confesses, choking back a sob. "You were always so nice to everyone… So _together_."

Liam can only scoff at that. “I may seem that way, but I’m not as ‘together’ as you think I am.”

And Zayn hugs him back, whispers, “To me, you are.”

-

Liam hops into the front seat, Harry in the passenger, and Louis on his lap.

"…Are you sure that’s comfortable?" Liam’s asks them, an eyebrow raised. "You could use the—"

"No, no." They both say in unison, not even taking the back seat as an option.

" _Really_?" He asks, voice gone up a pitch. "I could move the weapons if that’s what you’re—"

"It’s fine." Louis says.

"We’re fine." Harry says.

And Liam looks at them both sceptically, but eventually shrugs his shoulders and starts the engine.

It’s not until they’ve finished reversing and found their way back onto a familiar road when they start talking again.

"So, did you kill him?" Louis asks, as though he were asking about the weather.

"Who, Zayn? No, no, I - he decided to stay there for a little while longer."

"Oh, my God." Harry gasps, "Why’d you let him _do_ that?"

"Shut up, you idiot." Louis tells Harry, "Liam’s obviously killed him, he just doesn’t like to say it."

"I, uh-" Liam starts to explain, but they’re not even listening to him anymore.

"But what if he didn’t? What if that maniac’s chasing after us right now?" Harry gasps again, digging his fingers into the sides of Louis’ jeans in fear.

"Will you quit it?" Louis frowns, tearing Harry’s hands away. "Liam’s not that stupid. Zayn’s dead and gone now. Right, Liam?"

"Well… Uh, no."

There’s a collective silence in the car and Liam can feel his palms sweat onto the steering wheel.

"Oh my _God_." Harry cries out again. "We’re all gonna die!"

"Liam," Louis says, looking at him with a frown, "How could you?"

"Oh, for fuck’s sake." Liam groans, turning a corner. "He’s not going to kill either of you, alright? Now shut the fuck up about it before I crash this car and kill all of us, okay?"

And with that, Liam sits back and enjoys the rest of the trip without having to listen to another word.

 


	10. Addicted

They finally pull up to Louis’ house, the time reading on the small analogue clock ‘1:06’. It’s six past one in the morning and Liam’s in the same car as his set target, the one Niall will be expecting him to kill right now. He ignores the devil on his shoulder, telling him to just do it, do it now. And instead listens to the angel, the one that’s seen the best side of Louis all this time.

"Thanks again." Louis says, a tired smile placed on his lips.

Liam nods, “No worries.”

And he wishes he didn’t get a flutter in his stomach right then. And it may have something to do with the fact that it’s late, and Louis’ saying good-bye to him after they’ve been out for so long, and it _may_ have something to do with the fact that this _kind of_ feels like a date to Liam. But this is definitely, _definitely_ not a date. Far from it, actually.

But then Louis rests his hand on the handle, ready to leave the car. He turns back around, and opens his mouth but pauses like that for a while before he says anything.

"D-did you, uh… Did you want to come in for a drink…? Or - or something?"

And for a second there, Liam finds himself captivated in the way Louis struggles to string a sentence together, how his cheeks suddenly flush when it all comes out, and how his eyes look all exhausted like he could fall asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

But before Liam can even say anything, Harry cuts in.

"Louis?" He whispers harshly, like a warning of some sort. Then he turns to Liam and flashes an extremely fake smile. "Liam’s _obviously_ got better things to do then to stay with—"

"Okay." Liam says before he even realises what he’s done.

Louis’ eyes light up while Harry’s dim, and Liam’s head is filled with clouds of confusion.

They’re screaming “ _backoutnow, backoutnow, back out while you can_ ” but then he’s watching how Louis jumps off Harry’s lap and onto the road with a gleam in his eye and a shine in his smile and Liam can’t bring himself to say no.

" _You fucking idiot_ " his head says, purely giving up on him.

Louis leads the two of them, Harry sticking by his side and whispering cautious things into his ear while Louis bats him away with a, “ _Harry_!”

And Liam lingers behind. One side of his head punching him up for being such a dickhead, the other side smiling and cheering for being invited into Louis’ house. There is literally no overall word to describe what he’s feeling right now.

They enter the house, and because Harry kicks off his shoes and places them near the door, Liam’s obliged to do the same. The floors are all carpeted, and all that’s seen is a hallway so far, since the doors along it are all closed.

Louis leads them into his wide kitchen, met with a living room on the opposite side. The kitchen tiles are cold against his feet through his much worn out socks, but then Louis’ switching on a heater and it seems to work instantly.

"So, did you want anything in particular?" Louis asks him from behind the kitchen counter. Liam and Harry sit in the chairs facing him.

"Uhh, well, what—"

"I’ll have a soda." Harry interrupts. And Louis gives him a look, and then focuses his eyes back to Liam.

"Okay… I’ll just have the same." Liam says, not knowing what would be more of a hassle to make.

He can see in Louis and Harry’s eyes that they’re both tired, and he can feel it in himself, too. But as they all try and ignore it, Louis brings out three sodas and Harry cracks his open straight away.

"You know…" Louis begins to say, fiddling around with the metal on top of the can, not quite meeting eyes, "It _is_ very late and—"

" _Louis_ ," Harry whispers again, his teeth now gritted together. He flashes Louis a look as if to say "what the fuck are you doing?"

And Louis gives it some thought and just nods his head. Then he turns away from the two, completely dismissing what he was about to say.

Liam thinks you could cut the tension with a knife. Obviously Harry feels uneasy, with the way he’s grabbing a hold of the can with two hands tightly, and his edginess whenever Liam moves the _tiniest_ bit.

And Liam sighs.

"I know what you’re thinking and I wish that you were right." He begins, gaining attention from both of them. "If I were to kill either of you I probably would’ve done it by now but, to be fair," he sighs again, now looking at his fingers. "I couldn’t bring myself to kill either of you."

"I believe you." Louis says, almost immediately.

They share a smile.

"I don’t." Harry rebuttals. And Louis and Liam stare at him, making his fixed glare drop a little. "I - I’m not saying you’re a _psychopath_ or anything I just… Don’t trust you, s’all."

He shrugs. And after a few seconds, Liam shrugs too. He probably wouldn’t trust himself, either.

"Well, at the end of the day it is _my_ house." Louis states. He then leans over the counter, towards Liam. He looks him in the eyes and says softly, "You can stay the night, if you want."

And there’s something in the way Louis’ eyes shine with something special, the way his voice is so soothing to Liam’s ears, how he’s so close to him right at that second - it makes him nod before he can even think about it.

"Great!" Louis beams, grin spreading across his face, "I’ll set up your bed!"

He leaves the kitchen, leaving his untouched soda on the counter, and a very pissed off Harry sitting next to him.

"Try anything and I’ll slit your throat." Harry mumbles firmly in Liam’s ear.

Liam frowns, exasperated. He turns his head to say something else, but Harry’s already storming out of the room after Louis.

"Well." Liam says under his breath, eyes going wide.

Then Harry appears again from the doorway, his floppy hair bouncing when he moves into Liam’s sight.

"What did you say?"

And Liam cocks an eyebrow, says, “I said, I wouldn’t dare.”

Harry pauses, and stares Liam down from where he stands. Then his lips curve into a smile, “Good.”

And he’s gone again.

-

The spare bedroom was small, just like the entire house. The bed was lumpy and thin, but Louis had taken the time to make the bed and to get the “good” pillows of the house. So Liam smiles at Louis and thanks him and Louis wishes him a good night and that’s all he sees of him.

But because he can’t _see_ Louis, doesn’t mean he can’t _hear_ Louis.

"I would really like to know how your mind works." Says Harry in the next room. The walls are so thin Liam can hear Louis pull back the blankets on his own bed.

"Wouldn’t anyone?" Louis asks.

"You let someone who wants to _kill_ you—"

"Shh!"

There’s a pause. And Harry’s voice is suddenly a whisper.

"You let him stay the night. He could attack you and have you dead right at this second. Have you even considered that?"

Louis scoffs. And Liam lays in bed with both eyes open, staring at the ceiling, feeling sort of guilty that he’s even listening to this conversation.

"Don’t you think he would’ve done it by now?" Louis asks, getting into his bed. "He’s a nice guy, and I think he’s genuinely not out to hurt us."

Liam feels a flutter and he smiles to himself. Because who could have so much trust in someone they’ve barely met?

"Mm," Harry mumbles thoughtfully. "I s’pose. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be sleeping with one eye open tonight."

"Do as you please, Harry." A light switch is flicked off. "Goodnight."

"Night, Lou."

And Liam finally closes his eyes, and tries to sleep in the house of his target.

-

When he wakes up the next morning he can hear pots and pans clashing together from the kitchen. There’s an argument going on, and Liam gets out of bed slowly, wishing that his back didn’t hurt as much as it did.

But then there’s a yell, and a loud sound of something smashing against something else. Then silence.

And Liam is in the kitchen before he could even adjust his eyes, heart beating faster than his legs as he runs to see if everything’s okay.

Harry and Louis stand there in shock, looking down at the floor, next to a very broken espresso machine smashed to pieces.

Louis meets Liam’s eyes and smiles at him sheepishly, “Morning.”

"Uh…" Liam runs a hand through his hair, "What happened to the—"

"I can’t believe you broke that." Harry finally says, after looking at the broken pieces with disbelief.

" _Me_?" Louis looks taken aback, eyebrows now pinched together, " _You’re_ the one that knocked me over!"

"I wouldn’t have knocked you if you weren’t being so stupid about this! They’re just eggs, Lou!"

It’s then, that Liam notices the fry pan on the stove start to sizzle a bit too much.

"Guys, I think the—"

"Who says it’s stupid? I’m just trying to be a lovely host to my new found guest—"

"Guys!"

"Yeah, who’s also you’re new found murderer, which for some reason, seems to slip your mind!"

"Guys! The eggs are about to start a fire!" Liam finally calls out, and the two boys look at him before they register what’s been said.

Then Louis turns around fast, and turns off the gas before the fry pan burns all the way through. He sort of looks embarrassed when he flips the eggs onto a plate while Harry storms off, and Liam doesn’t know what to do so he helps Louis with cleaning up the espresso machine.

"Thanks for that." Louis says softly, and his cheeks blush when Liam smiles back at him. "That was — um, Harry’s birthday gift for me. That’s kind of why he’s… You know."

They sit down at the dining table. Liam with his two slices of toast and burnt eggs, Louis with his one slice and no eggs. He said they ‘weren’t up to standard’ but before he threw them out Liam took two and flashed him a grin, ‘looks fine to me’.

"I’ll have to buy another one of those." Louis sighs, gesturing back to Harry’s gift. "He won’t let me forget this until I do."

"You know," Liam starts. And then he pauses. Because he can’t believe he’s about to ask this, but he does anyway. "There’s a convenience store that sells them… I could show you it if you want?"

And Louis smiles down at his plate, then back up at Liam, “Okay.”

"I’m coming!" Harry calls from inside Louis’ bedroom, and Liam laughs.

-

Liam guides Louis through town. Suddenly wary and protective of the boy next to him, his hand on the small of Louis’ back. But either of them seem to mind, either of them seem to _notice_ , really. It’s sort of a reflex action for Liam.

"This it?" Louis points to a small shop on the main strip of town as they walk near it. Liam nods and they enter, a small bell ringing on their way in.

They pick one out,

"That doesn’t look half as good as mine." Harry says.

And they buy it, and walk out.

There are flashes left, right and centre. And the cameras are everywhere they look. They try and hurry, try and get somewhere private as fast as they can, but they already know they’ve got hundreds of photos together now, and at least one of them is about to be published.

” _Oh, well_.” Liam thinks as they slip through an old, deserted alleyway, ” _I’ll be dead soon anyway_.”

They keep on a very old track, where not much is seen but old, graffiti walls and dirty grounds, and the very tip of the sun peeking through. A few rats scatter across the floor in front of their feet, and Louis grabs onto Liam for safety.

Once they’re out, and onto a more familiar back trail to Louis’ house, Harry takes the espresso from Liam’s hand and runs in front of them.

"I’m gonna go set it up!" He exclaims, suddenly very excited.

"Never seen someone so enthusiastic about espressos."

Louis laughs, “That’s Harry.”

They walk side by side together, silent for a while. And Liam feels something terrible inside of him, like he’s guilty. Guilty for even attempting to take Louis’ life from him in the first place. Guilty for having to leave him now, just after they’ve gotten to know each other so well.

And he thinks about saying goodbye to him. Thinks about informing him that after today, that’s the last time they’ll ever get to see each other again.

But then he looks over to Louis, who’s absolutely _glowing_ , and he can’t bring himself to do that to him.

"Can I… Ask you something?" Louis questions as they walk, their shoulders nudging every so often.

"Of course."

Louis pauses, as though he’s thinking about how he’s supposed to phrase this. Setting out his words one by one so he doesn’t stumble.

"What made you change your mind?"

And although it’s a wide varied question, that could mean anything in the world - Liam knew exactly what Louis was talking about. And he knew the answer.

"I guess I just saw what a good person you are. Someone like you doesn’t deserve to die because I someone like me."

And Louis smiles so wide his eyes are crinkled you can hardly see them, and his cheeks are so high and his face is glowing so much more than before. And Liam’s never been more glad to see that.

"Thank you!" Louis latches on to the side of Liam, wrapping his arms around him tightly. "For… You know - sparing my life."

And Liam hugs him back as they reach the front of his house. Then Louis stops them both so he can hug him properly, front on and around Liam’s waist.

But it doesn’t last long, since Liam’s phone begins buzzing like crazy.

When he takes it out and looks at the caller ID, his face drops. He feels his stomach vanish, like the feeling you get when you go down the steepest part of a massive roller coaster. Although it’s not fun, it’s purely terrifying.

"What’s wrong?" Louis asks, looking at the depth of Liam’s eyes. "Who is it?"

"Niall." Liam barely chokes out. He looks back at Louis, and memorises his face as best he can. "I’m sorry, I — I have to go."

"Liam?"

Is all Liam hears when he’s jogging down Louis’ drive way, towards his own car. And he answers his phone, letting the screaming enter his ear.

 


	11. The End?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) xx

"Liam! Office! Now!"

A shudder runs down Liam’s spine, the hairs on his neck raise and his hands shake as he walks towards the dreaded office. He takes in the biggest breath of his life, and exhales as slow as he can before he turns the door handle leading into his doom.

Niall’s pacing back and forwards, both hands grabbing at his hair so furiously he could tear it all out. He catches sight of Liam and snatches a large print out from the table next to him.

"What the fuck is this?!" He slams the print down on the table. It’s a photo of Louis and Liam, walking the streets. "What the _fuck_ is _this_?!" He repeats, his voice almost unrecognisable.

Liam opens and closes his mouth, each time a new idea of a sentence comes to mind. But he eventually gives up, knowing that whatever approach he has, he’s dead either way.

So he gives Niall a blank look, and shrugs.

Which was probably not the best idea Liam’s ever had.

"I don’t know what you’re planning here, kiddo." He waves a finger right up to Liam’s face, almost hitting his nose. "But whatever it is, it’s not fuckin’ workin’, you hear me?"

Liam sighs, “Niall, there’s—”

"You hear me?!" He raises his voice, and his eyes nearly pop out of his head. Then he drops his finger and heads to his chair, sighing himself. "Don’t know how many times I’m gonna have to tell you, Liam. But you gotta kill this boy, aight?"

He sits down and hangs his head, as a way of dismissing him. But Liam wasn’t done yet.

"What if… What if I can’t kill him?" Liam asks, though he already knows the answer.

Niall pretends he doesn’t hear him for a while. His face twitches when he hears the words but nothing else happens until he looks back up at him, a menacing glare tearing through to Liam’s insides.

"Oh, I’m sorry," he says, a sarcastic tone filling his voice, "I thought I said, kill him?"

"Yes, you did," Liam swallows harshly, wishing the ground would just swallow him up. "But I can’t do it, Niall."

And Niall looks at him for what seems like an eternity, scanning and peering into Liam’s eyes, his soul. He stares for so long Liam swears his own body has turned to ice.

And then he laughs.

"My boy, you can’t be serious." He says, a howling laughter so loud it’s not his usual humours laugh that fills the halls, it’s scary. And once he notices that Liam’s not smiling, not at all, his face entirely drops and his voice changes rapidly. "You’re serious."

And Liam stands there, nodding. “Yes,” he whispers, unable to make any other sound.

"Liam," Niall leans back into his chair, folding his fingers together as they lay across his stomach. He pauses for a while, then he raises his brows. "How long have you been working here for?"

"Uhh… About three years-"

"About three years." Niall repeats, almost interrupting Liam as he knows _exactly_ how long it’s been. "And in those thirty-two months, what’s the motto that I’ve taught you? What’s the motto that you _pledged_ , the motto that you _swore_ with your whole heart, that you’ll follow it?"

Liam’s eyes find the door. It’s so damn tempting he almost steps towards it. He wishes he could go back to Louis’ house and drink the espresso Harry was so eager to make. He wishes he could hug Louis just one last time, and not have to be interrupted.

He wishes he ignored the buzzing phone in his back pocket and deleted Niall’s number when he had the chance.

But then Liam looks back at the ridiculing glare staring back at him, and realises he’s been asked a question.

"Kill or be killed." Liam mutters, now glancing at his own feet - unable to hold Niall’s gaze any longer.

"What was that, Liam? I’ll need you to speak up."

And Liam clears his throat, but there’s a lump there now that wasn’t there before, and it makes it hard to talk.

"Kill or be killed." He repeats, this time lifting his chin and speaking as best he can.

"Correct." Niall nods. He gets out of his chair, and walks around the desk until he’s right in front of Liam, and whispers, "Now, I’ll ask you this once and once only. Are you going to kill Louis Tomlinson?"

With his voice so close to his ear, Liam almost cries. There’s a feeling in his gut that feels like poison, and an itchiness in his throat that he tries to swallow down.

And when the words process through Liam’s mind, he closes his eyes and all he can see is Louis.

When he first saw him in the museum, how he tricked Liam and ran away. When Louis almost got shot at the café, and walked away without a scratch. And when he came face-to-face with Zayn Malik, and even with two assassins in the room, Louis _still_ managed to escape.

The emotions Liam felt at that point, he remembers, were a mixture of annoyance and a little bit of fondness.

And Liam almost smiles when he remembers how _scared_ Louis finally was when he found Liam in his bedroom. And how comfortable he was riding in the passenger’s seat of his car. Their first proper conversation, their first hug, how Louis invited him to stay the night, how Liam felt the need to protect him, the brightness in Louis’ eyes when he smiles at him, the way he talks—

"No." Liam finally says, opening his eyes. "I can’t do it."

The colour from Niall’s face drains, he braces himself against the desk, his hands holding him up. He frowns, but he’s not angry. Then his eyes drop, and he looks at the floor with defeat.

"I wouldn’t say—"

Liam grits his teeth, “I said no, Niall. I’m not putting a fucking gun to his head and pulling the trigger. That’s not happening; I’ve given you my word.” He shrugs, and turns to leave the room. “Find someone else to do your filthy work.”

But as soon as Liam’s hand reaches the doorknob, Niall’s grabbing onto Liam’s shoulder. Liam freezes, and hears Niall walking closer.

"You’re not leavin’ without a reason, Payne." His hand drops from Liam’s shoulder. "Nobody leaves without a reason."

And there’s a thousand and one explanations running through Liam’s head. How he wasn’t going to continue working for Niall, how he was considering not even taking the task. How, even after all these years, Liam’s common sense finally kicked in.

He turns around and faces Niall. “You want a reason? Fine.”

He walks into the middle of the room, feeling suffocated at how close Niall was standing with those degrading eyes.

"All the people I have killed, I’ve done it because they deserve to be dead." Liam says, unable to look Niall in the eye. He looks at the floor and remembers his past. "Adam Baxter, the guy who stole a shitload of cocaine? He _deserved_ it. That woman who kidnapped our highest powers daughter for ransom? _She_ deserved it. The boy who shot your cousin? He. Deserved. It." He’s tense now, spitting words here and there through gritted teeth. He collects himself, but there’s still anger in his words. "But this boy? Louis?" He shakes his head. "No, Louis doesn’t deserve to be dead. He’s one of the least selfish people I’ve ever seen in my life. Yes, he _steals_ , yes, he _sells_ to the black market. But he’s giving every single penny to those who actually _need_ it!" He raises his voice, and takes one step closer to his boss.

"You should see these villages, Niall. The kids look like they’re about to wither away to nothing. And their mothers? They all look the same, dirty and tired yet they still smile whenever Louis comes into the picture. I’ve never seen the dads, ever. Because they’re out doing whatever hard labour they can to earn some amount of cash." Liam takes in a deep breath. He’s walked to the other side of the room, and he finally meets Niall’s eye. "It’s sad, Niall. To see these people struggling, but what Louis is doing is something so many others can learn from. I just don’t understand why he should be punished for it."

And instead of a response, a silence so loud it pierces through Liam’s ears more fiercely than an explosion. It’s mixed with confusion and desperation, but mostly shock and a huge amount of disappointment.

Then Liam breaks the silence by sniffing back the tears that have formed by the edges of his eyes. He tries to convince himself that it’s just hay-fever, or something’s in his eye - but he knows they’re real tears. He just can’t show Niall.

He hears him sigh, and sees his hands drop to his sides.

"Very well." Niall says, putting his hand on Liam’s back to guide him out the door.

They start walking, and Liam wipes the moisture from his eyes with the back of his hand.

"You’ve been a great worker for me, Mr Payne. Always deliverin’ and impressin’ me. One that I’ve become very fond of." He stops, and turns Liam to face him, both his hands firm on Liam’s shoulders. "That’s why I gave you this task in particular. And although you’ve failed, you’ll still remain one of my favourite hit men I’ve ever hired."

Liam takes the chance to look at Niall. And he doesn’t know whether it’s his imagination or not, but in Niall’s eyes, there’s tears, too.

"Thank you, Liam." He says, and brings him into the first hug they’ve ever had. Niall rests his head on Liam’s shoulder as he whispers softly. "I’m really gonna miss you."

Liam feels a drop from his eye run down his cheek as hugs him back. Because although Niall’s been a pain in the neck, he’s known him for three years. And to be fair, Liam’s actually going to miss Niall, too.

"Okay, well," Niall pats Liam on the back and pulls away, clearing his throat and forcing a smile, "back to business."

They walk into a small, dark room. The only thing in there is a chair in the middle of it, which Niall gestures for him to sit on.

"I told them to make it quick with no pain." Niall tells him as Liam sits down. "I’ll be joining you up there one day. Say hi to my nan for me."

He ruffles Liam’s hair, looking at him one last time. He smiles softly, and nods once before he turns to the exit. There are two men at the doorway already, one with a gun and the other with a pole.

"You alright, boss?" Asks the first one. Niall nods his head but it’s clear he’s broken down.

The two men enter; the one with the gun stands in front of Liam as the other locks the pole into the door securely.

"It’s okay; it’ll only hurt for a second." The first one says as he cocks the gun.

Liam fidgets around in the wooden chair, and only then does he realise he’s shaking.

"Head or chest?" The first man asks, a voice so calm and polite it’s messed up to know he’s about to shoot.

Liam clears his throat, “Uh, chest.”

The man nods, and gets down on one knee. He points the barrel of the gun towards Liam, straight to his chest.

They say it’s a cliché when you see your life flash before your eyes. But it’s a form of sharp recollection, a quick collage of what you’ve done and who you’ll miss.

He thinks about all the people he’ll never get to say good-bye to. He thinks about Josh, and how torn he’ll be when he receives the news. He wonders if Harry and Louis will even realise he’s dead. He wonders whether they’ll just assume he’s moved onto another task, been taken away from hanging out together.

He can picture Louis wondering where he’s gone, and Harry telling him he’s been right all along, that Liam never really liked them and now he’s left.

And Liam looks down the barrel of the gun that faces him, and closes his eyes in preparation.

A loud, sharp noise echoes through the tiny room, a force so tough in the middle of Liam’s chest, causing him to fall off his chair onto the ground with a ‘thud’. A pain so incoherent shoots through him, but as he was told, it only hurts for a second.

Then as Liam watches the two pairs of feet leave the room, his eyes fade, resulting to complete blackness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read part 2 [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1032427)
> 
> ♡ [tumblr](louiswmalik.tumblr.com) ♡


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